October 30, 2006

Now the old blokes are finding me

I was standing on weeds in someone's yard taking a photograph of a twiggy tree when a man spoke with an accent from the footpath. I looked over and he was posed like that bird stance in The Karate Kid.
I was followed for the entire journey to work by this man, he talked continuously a third in French, third Italian, third English and some sporadic German. I practiced my French. I guessed his age quite accurately as I tend to do. 65 I guessed. He's 68.
He has been surrounded by women all his life - he had multiple women in multiple cities.
His younger sister died at 8 months of age when he took her out into the cold winter for a walk.
He recently bought his mother a beautiful silk dress, jewellry and a cartier watch.
He believes all but 4 languages should be disposed of in a rubbish bin. Including Italian and English.
7 out of 10 women say yes when he goes up to them and asks to kiss them.

As much as I am curious about old men (see previous post) there comes a point of irritation. Not all old blokes... But the ones that don't stop for breath, don't let you walk away when you say goodbye, who keep showing you their passport photograph and saying do they really look that bad? And then insist on getting your PO box address so they can send you a postcard from Paris.
That bit was okay.

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You are looking at the creative home of Natalija Brunovs.
A blog is a reason to create.
A creation is a reason to blog.
To force oneself to create can force inspiration to occur.
These thoughts and images are from wanderings and workings as an
artist, photographer, designer, community artsworker and lover.